


Staplegunned

by santana-lopez (nightshifted)



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightshifted/pseuds/santana-lopez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ask me again when you're ready."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staplegunned

Santana doesn't know which she hates more: the fact that her heart starts pounding at the sound of her doorbell, or the fact that her chest actually _seizes_ when she realizes that the blond cheerleader at her door is Quinn, and not—

Santana rolls her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Quinn slaps a piece of paper into Santana's hand. "Stop being a dumbass."

Santana narrows her eyes. "The hell is this?"

"A wake-up call," Quinn replies firmly. "One that you desperately need."

Santana holds the coupon away from her body like it's a slice of cancer. "I thought you and Lady Lips were out making good use of this tonight. Which, by the way is totally gross. If you had a brother? That's what he'd look like."

Quinn ignores her. "Quit being a bitch. I'm actually here to help you. Take the coupon, and _fix it_."

"I don't need your charity, Quinn," Santana fires back, slapping the voucher across Quinn's chest. "I can pay for my own goddamn meal."

Quinn looks down at Santana's hand. "You need to stop touching my boobs."

Santana's hand snaps away, the voucher coming away with it. "I wasn't fucking touching your boobs. I was giving you back your shit."

Quinn lifts her chin. "Do you know who else was at Breadstix tonight? Just guess."

Santana's heart drops to her stomach, her hand clenching around the coupon. "…by herself?"

Quinn laughs mirthlessly. "You're such an idiot sometimes you know that? Such an idiot."

Santana bristles. "Watch your mouth."

Quinn smiles faintly, almost in satisfaction. "I'm leaving now."

Santana watches Quinn retreat to her car before slamming her fist against her door in frustration. She runs inside and grabs her keys. Quinn's words ring in her head as Santana climbs into her own car, tosses the Breadstix coupon on her dashboard, and buckles herself in.

 _Fix it_.

\--

Santana finds Brittany at the park on the swing set, her feet kicking absentmindedly at the sand as she rocks back and forth. Santana approaches, mildly irritated because she'd been driving around for the better part of forty minutes trying to track the girl down. Not at Breadstix, not at home, not at any of their favorite hangouts.

"Are you avoiding me or something?"

As far as openers go, it's not Santana's best. She stops at the end of the swing set and watches the toe of Brittany's shoes dig into the sand, strong limbs stopping the swing's motion. Brittany looks up at her, facial features unchanging, then back down at the sand. Without a word, she kicks up again, harder and higher this time.

Santana rolls her eyes. "Look, Quinn made Boy Blondie pay for their meal, so she like gave me the coupon or whatever. Which, for the record, Mercedes and I totally would've won anyway if the whole thing hadn't been rigged." She watches the arced path of the swing for a moment, watches Brittany's long legs flex and extend, but when no reply is forthcoming, she takes a few steps into the sand. "So do you want to go or not?"

Brittany continues swinging. "No!" she calls out at the apex of her next swing, her voice caught in the wind. "I'm still mad at you."

Santana sighs, stepping closer until she's directly in the swing's path. Instantly alarmed, Brittany digs her toes into the sand on her way down, but the momentum propels her into Santana's body. Santana grabs onto the chains on either side of the swing and forces it to a stop.

Their bodies are touching for the first time since Santana flipped her shit in Brittany's bedroom, and Santana instinctively leans in, her chest tightening because she doesn't know any other way to react to her best friend. Brittany's legs twist around Santana's for one moment before sliding away, but the brush of skin against Santana's calf burns deep.

Brittany ducks under Santana's arm and slips away, leaving Santana gripping onto an empty swing. Santana curses under her breath and starts after Brittany.

"Brittany, god, you're being such a—"

Brittany spins around, and Santana's insult dies in her throat. Santana breathes out as she carefully approaches, hating the way Brittany is staring her down, jaw set and brows furrowed. Only her eyes are soft. Brittany's eyes are always soft.

"You have something on your nose," Santana remarks when she's close enough to notice, reaching a hand out toward her best friend's face.

"Don't touch me," Brittany mutters, pulling away.

That one stings. "Britt, come on."

"I already ate, and—and I don't want to go to Breadstix with you."

Santana doesn't call her out for her lie. She isn't even sure if it's a lie anymore. "Okay," Santana says, trying a quieter approach. "Okay, but can we just like stop hating each other already?"

Brittany's eyes flash. "I don't hate you."

"Well I don't hate you either, but—"

"Are you sure?" Brittany cuts in. "'Cause you kind of suck at showing it."

Santana crosses her arms over her chest. "I know, okay? But it's never bothered you before."

Brittany's eyes dart away for a split second, just enough to make Santana's heart ache.

"I'll try harder," Santana blurts out, "but—this is just who I am. This is _how_ I am, and I can't—"

"I know," Brittany reassures gently, taking a step forward until their bodies are almost touching again. "I know that." She looks down. "Have you ever stopped to think about who _I_ am?"

Santana drops her arms to her side, her limbs itching to wrap around Brittany's body. "I know who you are." She sighs. "Get back on the swing, okay? I'll push you."

Brittany shakes her head, but before Santana has a chance to get upset, Brittany brushes her lips against Santana's. It's quick and light and not enough and _everything_. Santana's breath hitches.

" _You_ get on." Brittany smiles. "I'll push you."

Santana rolls her eyes playfully before backing onto the swing and taking a seat. Brittany moves behind her and grabs the chains. With a small grunt, Brittany pulls the swing back before releasing it and giving it a shove.

The swing glides through the air in a shallow arc, and Santana closes her eyes and lets the wind brush through her hair. It's peaceful, and quiet, and everything they haven't been since that night in Brittany's bedroom. She doesn't realize how much she'd missed it.

Eventually, Brittany drags the swing to a stop, and twists it around so that Santana is facing her. Instinctively, Santana's legs wrap around Brittany's thighs.

Brittany reaches up to play with Santana's hair. "Did Quinn really give you the coupon?"

"Yeah. Apparently her and Vacuum Lips are dating now or something. Like I said, it should've been mine to begin with. 'Cedes and I rocked that duet."

"You should go with Mercedes," Brittany says lightly, her fingertips brushing Santana's jaw.

Santana's hands slip to Brittany's hips. "I want to go with _you_."

Brittany shrugs. "We didn't sing together. I didn't even get to sing at all. I didn't win that meal."

"But—"

Brittany's palm presses against Santana's lips, silencing her. "Go with Mercedes. Ask me again when you're ready."

Santana swallows hard. "I'm ready."

Brittany rests her forehead against Santana's and smiles. Santana leans in, fighting the prickling at the backs of her eyelids, and Brittany doesn't stop her. Their lips meet in a quiet kiss in the empty park, and Brittany's body presses closer, her warmth bleeding into Santana's skin. But when Brittany pulls away, she brushes her knuckles against Santana's cheek and repeats her words, in a whisper this time.

"Ask me again when you're ready."

Santana buries her face into Brittany's chest, shuts her eyes, and nods. She'll ask again when she's ready.

_fin_


End file.
